


One More Beautiful and Dangerous

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - The Lord of the Rings, Drama, First Time, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Points of View, Romance, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by BelegephelIn which Samwise realizes that his master is different in both good and bad ways.  Somewhat melancholy.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 2
Collections: Least Expected





	1. Running from Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters and plot: his. Story: mine. Do not attempt to recreate.
> 
> Feedback: yes, please, including constructive criticism, I live for feedback...
> 
> Story Notes: My first attempt at LOTR slash. Hope you like! Must include the following quotes for you, as a prologue. Also, I used a prose that is a bit more eloquent than the actual of Samwise Gamgee. Sorry.
> 
> Prologue and concerning where I got this idea:
>
>> "To me there is nothing so admirable as a passionate love-bond between two human beings. Sam loves Frodo and wants to protect him, and Frodo is extremely protective of Sam. So what you have are these two people locked into this journey together. They don't need to explain what they are to each other; they don't need to talk about it; they just are."  
> -Sean Astin
>
>> "It is a deep relationship and difficult to describe. In one way it is a master/servant relationship, because Sam comes from a different class and wants to serve Frodo and be there for him because he's very, very loyal. But more than anything, they are best friends." And the thing that enables Frodo to complete his quest? "Quite simply, it is love. It is that unconditional love that says, regardless of what you do or where you go, I will always be there for you." -Elijah Wood

I was a mere hobbit-lad when Mister Bilbo adopted Mister Frodo as his heir. Mister Frodo was fifteen years older than I, and learned in the ways of gentle-hobbits. The Gaffer called me out of my room that bright summer morning to go with him up the Hill to Bag-End, where I was to begin work when I reached my `tweens.

I first saw Frodo as I came puffing up the hill. He was climbing the tree that nestled into the slope of the green mound. That was when I first knew he was different.

"Young Master Baggins!" my Gaffer called loudly, his voice echoing across the downs. "You'd better come down from that tree or you'll fall, sure as I'm a hobbit!"

The face that turned to find the source of the voice was slim, the cheekbones high and well defined. Soft black curls fell over the pale complexion, shadowing the brilliant blue eyes. My breath caught in my pudgy hobbit throat as I stared. No hobbits I knew had blue eyes. They had brown ones and green ones, but not blue. Only elves had blue eyes, or so I was told. Oh, how I wished to see some elves.

As Mister Frodo jumped down out of the tree and hurried over to us, I thought I had found one standing just there in front of me. Only he was too short to be an elf. He was lean, and a bit taller than myself. He smiled down at me, and I felt my heart do a wild dance in my throat at that kind gaze. He offered his hand, and I took it. His grip was firm and warm, and I returned his grin as best I might to make a good impression.

The Gaffer had told me stories about the history of the Bagginses. They were said to have descended from the pairing of an elf-maiden and a hobbit in days long past. A queer bunch, he said. I didn't think Mister Frodo queer; instead, I thought him achingly beautiful.

If I had known then just how beautiful he would become, and how it would affect my life, I'd have searched for work in Crickhollow or Buckland, somewhere far from the Shire, and far from the likes of Frodo Baggins.

However, things didn't work out that way, and I found myself employed as the gardener and custodian of Bag End. I also found myself deeply in love with my Master. I never let him know, though. I kept to myself as much as possible, which was hard to do working for Mister Frodo, if you take my meaning. He bid me eat with him at every meal. He requested my company on trips, and invited me to all the parties that he and Mister Bilbo hosted up there at Bag End.

I couldn't refuse.

Each morning, I rose before the dawn so that I could make my way down Bagshot Row to the fine hobbit-hole. I would let myself in with the key Mister Bilbo had given me, and tiptoe down the long hall to Mister Frodo's room, and watch him for a few minutes in the shadows till I saw the Sun start to show her face in the window.

In the afternoons, after Mister Bilbo had gone over to Buckland to visit with Frodo's cousins, Merry and Pippin, Mister Frodo would bring me a glass of cool blackberry currant to ease my fatigue. He would sit and talk with me as I rested, telling me stories of his adventures as a hobbit-lad in the home across the Brandywine. Some days, he would lie in the shade of the great tree and watch me work. I didn't realize he was doing this at first, and sang sometimes.

Once I realized it, my fingers trembled when his gaze fell on my back or profile. I dropped things and cursed at myself for my clumsiness.

He would laugh merrily, his deep blue eyes full of mirth. I found myself wanting to drown in them. After realizing that, I cursed myself some more. The folk in the Shire wouldn't approve of my feelings for my Master, and I'd be shamed for life, if not cast out of the Shire. Most thought I had my eye on Rosie Cotton, a pretty hobbit-lass. I let them think it, and tried to make myself do so as well, but it was to no avail. The face that haunted all my sweetest dreams was that of Mister Frodo.

Then Mister Frodo invited me to his and Mister Bilbo's birthday party. It was to be a big celebration, and even old Gandalf was coming. This was to the delight of the whole Shire, even though some tried to hide their joy.

Before dinner, Mister Frodo and I slipped off by ourselves to smoke a bit. We sat quietly for a little while. At last, he turned to me, his eyes glistening. My heart twisted within my chest seeing the tears in his eyes. My back stiffened as I sat up, waiting for a command or the need to comfort him. I couldn't bear to see him like this.

"Mr. Frodo?" I asked, unsure of myself.

"Oh, Sam. Dearest Sam, I have to tell you some things, and I must say them tonight, for things are going to change from now on," he began, running a hand wearily over his face.

"What is it, Mr. Frodo? Are you all right?"

He nodded, swallowing thickly. I could hear it in the silence that surrounded us. We were too far away to hear the sounds from the party. His smooth hand slipped into my rough one, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Sam, Bilbo's leaving tonight. I'm to become the master of Bag End," he whispered.

I frowned, looking down at my hairy feet. That wasn't such a bad thing, or so I thought. I wondered why Mister Frodo was so upset, and quieting my mind, I turned back to him.

He moved a bit closer to me, and placed his hand on my cheek, gently lifting my face so that I was staring right into those pools he had for eyes. I involuntarily licked my lips. Everything about me felt trembly and surreal.

"Samwise, I..." he began. Quickly, he pressed his lips to mine. Before I could stop myself, I brought my hands up to cup his face gently, my fingers tangling in the mass of curls at the back of his neck. His tongue sought refuge in my mouth, and I granted it momentarily. Sensations ran through my pudgy body that I'd never felt before. I felt as though I could fly if he asked, and could die a happy hobbit Regaining my senses, I pushed him back, a little too roughly. He stared at me, a frown marring his beautiful face. I could see the confusion written plainly on his countenance, and the hurt in his eyes bit into my heart like a steel blade.

"Fro...Mister Frodo, I can't, and you know it as well as I," I pushed out quickly. "I can't work for you no more. Not if it's going to be like this."

I got up, not waiting to hear or see his reaction, and stumbled down the path to Bagshot Row. The house was empty, seeing as my family was at the party. I slammed the door to my room so that it nearly fell off its hinges, and threw myself onto my bed. Tears flowed from my eyes like tiny rivers. The pain in my chest was suffocating, and I choked on my breath several times as I cried. I don't know why exactly I'd done what I had, only that it was done, and I couldn't take it back.

I didn't want to know what my Gaffer was going to say to my quitting a job.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Samwise 'sees the light' and spies on his Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters, place, plot: His. Story and emotions: mine.
> 
> Feedback: YES!!! I live for it, including constructive criticism. Thanks for that I've already gotten!
> 
> Story Notes: This story was only supposed to be three parts long, but suddenly, I've gotten into it. Bear with me, and if you like it, let me know.

In my dream, something fell and dark was chasing me in the mountains. The mountains of all places, and I don't even like being on top of the hill in Michel Delving when it snows to slide down! The thing was screaming at me, shaking its clawed fist in my face, with me backed up against the edge of a cliff. I could look over, and there was fire at the bottom. Its foul breath drew nearer as it closed the distance between it and myself.

I felt myself starting to slip, and suddenly the rocks beneath my feet began to tremble and crack away, crumbling under my weight. I started to fall, and screamed out, fearing my certain death.

"Samwise Gamgee! Wake your foolish self up, lad, and get your brains back from the garbage heap!" my Gaffer was yelling at me, shaking my shoulders. I rubbed my eyes with my fists, trying to clear the fog that seemed to loom before them. Looking up at him, I frowned. He was angry, to be sure, about the events of last month, and there I had almost forgotten them.

I suppose I ought to have counted myself lucky that my Gaffer had decided to go up to Bree for two weeks with Ted Sandyman's dad to see about a pony to pull some of the weight over at the mill. The following week, he'd been busy helping to train the poor thing to turn the stile and grind the grain.

"Easy, dad. I will break, you know," I muttered, swinging my feet over the edge of my bed.

"Easy? EASY? You're telling me to be easy with you, and here you've gone and quit workin' for Messrs. Baggins! I ought to string you up, lad, for the whole town to see what a foolish son it is that I've got myself these days," he snapped. "What in the name of Elbereth were you thinking, boy? You'll never get an honest job anywheres else now. You get yourself up right this instant and over to Bag-End, and you apologize to Mister Bilbo and Frodo. Then you beg them to take you back," the older hobbit demanded.

I nodded silently.

An hour's passage found me at the little white gate outside Bag-End. I couldn't bring myself to open it, knowing that doing so would be admitting to my foolish pride.

The round green door that I so loved suddenly opened, and Mister Frodo stepped out, coughing slightly. At once, the desire to pull him into my arms almost overcame me. His eyes were red and bloodshot, the bags under them almost black. He looked even thinner than usual.

"Mister Frodo," I gasped, unable to stop myself.

His sapphire gaze rose to meet my face, and he smiled weakly. "Sam," he breathed.

I stepped through the gate finally, and up to him. Taking my hat off, I bowed to him slightly. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder, gentle, but burning through my clothes and searing my skin.

"Come in, come in. Bilbo left last night, and you'll have to forgive me, but the place is a mess," he said, recovering from his stupor at seeing me. I followed him into the living room, where I saw that what he said was true. I could smell burnt mushrooms from here, and the floor of the room was covered in papers, books, and other oddities that Mister Bilbo must have just thrown about while he was packing.

"Mister Frodo," I began, my voice more squeaky than I'd have liked. I cleared my throat and continued. "I've come to see about getting my job back, sir."

The brightest of smiles passed over his face, and I felt my little hobbit-heart thump away in my chest as it was directed towards me. It seemed that nothing had changed since that night, save the fact that I was a bit more willing to accept Mister Frodo's offer. He didn't mention it, though.

"That's wonderful news, Sam, and I promise, there will be no more advances from me like that," he assured me. For some reason, my heart fell when he said it.

I nodded, smiling brightly. I walked out into the hall, and set my hat on a peg. Making my way back into the kitchen, I saw an even bigger mess. Apparently, my Master had tried to cook something on his own, and had failed miserably. I cleaned up a bit, and put on a fresh pot of mushrooms and got a jug of blackberry wine from the cellar, fixing it up just the way Mister Frodo liked. I hadn't heard a peep out of him since I left the living room, and I suddenly wondered what he was up to. Putting the wooden spoon down, I moved towards the kitchen door.

"Mister Frodo? Are you all right?" I called, trying to sound like it didn't actually mean all that much to me.

"Oh, yes, Sam. Just going over some old letters for Gandalf about this little ring that Bilbo left me. Don't bother your sweet head about me, Sam. I'm thirty-three now, and I promise I won't do anything to harm myself," he replied, his voice laced with mirth.

I bristled a bit. Oh how badly I want to hate him sometimes. But you know your heart won't let you do it, Samwise Gamgee, so don't even try.

Nine years later, I found myself still working for Mister Frodo, and more deeply in love with him than ever. The Gaffer had noticed my lack of interest in Rosie, and the smart old hobbit figured out who my feelings were directed to. However, as promised, Mister Frodo had remained my master and friend, teaching me to read and write a bit. He would never touch me and rarely looked at me. I missed the gentle hugs and soft smiles that I had grown so accustomed to.

Queer things had started happening, and there were rumours of darkness spreading from the East. I spent much time at Bag-End, as much as I could to learn news of the goings-on. Merry and Pippin got word that Mister Frodo might be going away, and I refused to leave the Hill for fear tha he might go without telling his old Sam. I hated spying on him, but Merry and Pippin told me that if I didn't, they'd tell everyone in the Shire about my feelings for Mister Frodo. I couldn't risk that just yet.

Then one night, Gandalf came back, and I pretended to be clipping the hedge's beneath the living room's windowsill to listen to what he told Frodo. I heard everything.

I was yanked in the window and grilled about what I'd heard, but I was so nervous about being turned into something "unnatural" that I stammered and nearly fainted. Mister Frodo was there watching me, but there was a change in his eyes. They were more troubled and a bit empty.

The wizard then told me that I was to be going away with Mister Frodo to see some elves! I agreed quickly to go and protect my Master. "Don't you loose him, Samwise Gamgee." And I intend to, sure as I got hairy feet. The next morning, I told Mister Merry and Mister Pippin about what the news was, and they decided to come along as well. None of us were going to let Frodo out of our sight for a minute. Especially not while he had that queer ring of Mister Bilbo's.

If I'd known then what was to come in the following days, I might not have been so sure of going with Mister Frodo.

That's not right.

I'd follow him to the very ends of Middle Earth and back if he simply asked. I didn't realize that that was what I was about to do.

~more to come soon~


End file.
